I was just coming home in the late afternoon from getting my haircut. I've been wearing my hair short ever since Ben was born, and this latest cut was a particularly short, cropped style. Think Mia Farrow in her Frank Sinatra days.
Ben greets me at the door.
Ben: Where were you are?
Me: I was getting a haircut. Do you like it?
Ben: I want your hair to be fat.
Me: Well, it's short now, but it will grow again.
He comes over and tugs at my hair, runs his fingers through it, then walks away.
Ben: But now you're a boy!
Come to think of it, I read somewhere that the rest of the Rat Pack said that about Mia Farrow, too.